Over and Over
by thelittletree
Summary: Just a little drabble, based in my VinTif universe. Takes place just before Illuminating the Dark. Tifa must make a choice.


Over and Over

by: thelittletree

_And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully!  
__Smoothed by long fingers,  
__Asleep…tired…or it malingers,  
__Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.__  
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,  
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis?_

_The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock_ – T. S. Eliot

(Author's note: Just a drabble/songfic inspired by the song _Over and Over _by Three Days Grace, because I've got a mild case of writer's block. Yup. It takes place just before Illuminating the Dark. Okay, see ya!)

* * *

_I feel it everyday__  
It's all the same__  
It brings me down  
But I'm the one to blame  
I've tried everything to get away_

It was hopeless. Tifa buried her head in her arms and tried to ignore the ticking of the clock over the sink. She couldn't go; but she had to go. One more night would kill her, she was sure. But one more night spent alone would kill her, too.

_So here I go again  
Chasing you down again  
Why do I do this?_

At least he was _there_, she thought, even if he wasn't in _love_ with her. At least he smiled at her – she'd even heard him laugh last week. Well, not a _full_ laugh, maybe; but a chuckle counted, she'd decided. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to falling on the floor, clutching his sides. At least he spoke with her; at least he listened to her. At least he spent time with her playing cards and drinking tea.

_Over and over  
Over and over  
I fall for you_

Yesterday he'd helped her clean out her closet. The day before that she'd burned two batches of cookies, and he'd at least _pretended_ to like them. The day before that they'd sat on two different pieces of furniture, reading; she'd interrupted him again and again with tidbits of poetry and he'd never asked her to keep them to herself. He'd even commented on a few of them.

"Listen to this, Vincent: '_No more be grieved at that which thou hast done: / Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud. / Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, / And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud._'"  
"So, you're telling me even nature has things to atone for?"  
"Not me. Shakespeare."  
"Ah. Then it must be true."

_Over and over  
Over and over  
I try not to_

Someday, she was afraid, she was going to simply tackle him – just meet him at the door and send them both crashing into the wall. He would be angry, of course. It would ruin everything she had with him now. But maybe – just _maybe_ – he wouldn't say _no_.

_It feels like everyday  
Stays the same  
It's dragging me down  
And I can't pull away_

She glanced at the clock. She was late. With a curse, she shot to her feet, yanked on her sneakers and, in her haste, almost forgot to lock her apartment door. They would wonder where she was. Eventually, he would come find her, and she would have no excuse for not leaving on time.

_So here I go again  
Chasing you down again  
Why do I do this?_

One of these days, she knew, he was going to figure it out; one of these days he was going to catch a look in her eyes, or hear the lie in her voice, and _know_ she'd broken the silent promise she'd made – not to make things complicated, not to change things. And he would pity her, she was sure; it wouldn't keep him from _leaving_, of course, but he would feel sorry.

_Over and over  
Over and over  
I fall for you_

She wished… But it was hopeless. She'd already tried, over and over, to fall _out_ again. She never made any headway. He knocked on her door in the afternoon because Lily was driving him up the wall; he lent her books and never asked for them back; he walked her home in the dark, even in the rain. And she inevitably fell back _in_.

_Over and over  
Over and over  
I try not to_

But she _had_ to forget him. He was killing her. Slowly, but surely, she was drowning again. And this time, she was pretty sure he wouldn't dive in to save her.

Eike, she thought. Eike-Something. Claviston? Clariston? It broke her heart to think it; but maybe she would say _yes_. Because she needed _somebody_. And if it wasn't going to be Vincent…

She bit her lip as she saw him crossing the street, still three blocks away. They were all back roads here; he liked to stay unnoticed. Black shirt untucked and flaring out as he jogged to the sidewalk, coming to meet her. He was the most wonderful thing she'd ever known. He would think that was hilarious.

_Over and over  
Over and over  
You make me fall for you_

…if it _couldn't_ be him…

He never seemed out of breath. His smile was always small and intimate. "She made cornbread. I would've eaten your share if I'd waited for you."

_Over and over  
Over and over  
You don't even try_

Tifa couldn't help laughing. "You're going to get fat."

"I burn a lot of calories."

"Then maybe you should've eaten my share, because if I keep eating like this _I'm_ going to get fat."

"I'm sure no one would care."

"_I_ would! I'd never get a date again!"

…it was going to have to be someone else. He would never be her brother, the way he seemed to want to be. The look on his face at this moment told her so. Maybe he wasn't trying to force her into a mold that would never fit her, the way Cloud had; but he wasn't making the room in his life to fit _all_ of her – just the parts he felt comfortable taking. And that was almost as painful.

"Do you want some company tonight?"

_Yes_, she wanted to say. _But only if you'll sleep in my bed_. "No, thanks. I've got an early morning tomorrow."

_So many thoughts that I can't get out of my head  
I try to live without you, every time I do I feel dead_

"I could sleep on your couch."

She wanted to scream: _Sleep with me, or sleep at home; there's no medium anymore. You can't live with me and not live with me. One night, I'm going to bring a man home – because, if I don't, I'm going to go crazy – and you won't be able to sleep on my couch anymore._

"That's okay, Vincent. I'm a big girl, and you've got your own apartment. I don't mind being by myself sometimes."

He seemed ready to say more. She was grateful when he didn't; both of them knew by now that he stayed because he _wanted_ to stay. It was the closest he would let himself get, without actually being _with_ her. She wondered that it didn't drive him to distraction; it was certainly making her insane.

Or maybe it did, and he was just very good at hiding it. Not that she could let herself think about that. How angry would he be, how _shocked_, if she let him stay and came to him, naked, in the middle of the night?

It would ruin everything. Damn him. He couldn't stay. She had to forget him; it was the only way.

_I know what's best for me  
But I want you instead  
I'll keep on wasting all my time_

He opened Lily's front door for her and smiled faintly as she glanced at him. Though his eyes seemed suddenly distant.

The distance frightened her. But it was necessary, she reminded herself. She _wished_ things could stay the same; but she wasn't the same, and she couldn't exactly stop her life from carrying her forward. She forced herself to swallow her words and entered the kitchen.

Half way through dinner, she began to fumble things. As Lily handed her the last piece of cornbread, she dropped it on the floor, butter-side down. She grimaced; Lily laughed.

_Over and over  
Over and over  
You make me fall for you_

Without a word, Vincent handed her the piece from his own plate. And she knew, as she met his eyes, as their fingers brushed and he didn't flinch away, that it was inevitable. As long as things stayed the same, she would always be falling back _in_. It was hopeless.

"Vincent, I can't."

_Over and over  
Over and over  
You don't even try to_

She dropped the bread back onto his plate on her way to the bathroom. It was time – it was passed time, she knew – to make a decision. She had to choose; she had to _choose_…


End file.
